Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 147: Investigation

"Now I’m going to give you a piece of my fucking mind, Eliot."

Her voice was cold, sharp enough to cut. She took a slow step forward, her gaze locked onto Eliot’s, daring him to look away.

"You are nothing but a spineless, self-serving coward," she continued, her voice unwavering. "A man who let his mistress-turned-wife and her daughter—who isn’t even yours—abuse me while you stood there, watching, pretending not to see. Tell me, Eliot, did you ever once feel guilt? Did it ever cross your mind to step in, to stop them? Or were your company, your power, and your precious reputation more important than your own flesh and blood?"

Eliot swallowed hard, but he didn’t interrupt. Perhaps he knew that nothing he could say would make a difference.

Ephyra scoffed. "Of course not. I was never your daughter, was I? Just a burden, an inconvenience. You tolerated me because you had to, not because you wanted to." She let out a short, humorless laugh. "You know, I spent years craving your approval. I thought if I was good enough, smart enough, obedient enough, you might finally look at me and see more than just a reminder of my mother."

She took another step forward, closing the distance between them.

"But that was a mistake, wasn’t it?" Her voice softened, but there was no warmth in it. "Because no matter what I did, you never saw me. Not really."

Eliot’s lips parted, his face pale. "Ephyra, I—"

"You what?" she snapped. "You regret it? You’re sorry?" She let out a bitter chuckle. "Save it. Regret doesn’t undo the years of neglect. Apologies don’t erase the scars—physical or otherwise."

Without another word, she turned, grabbed her suitcases, and walked past him.

As she reached the door, she paused.

"Oh, and one more thing," she said without turning around. "From this day on, I have no parents. You, Marianna, Myra—none of you exist to me anymore."

Her voice was final, ringing through the empty mansion like a death knell. Eliot stood frozen, his face ashen, his body slumped as if the weight of his choices had finally come crashing down. But it didn’t matter—not to Ephyra. Not anymore.

She gripped the handles of her suitcases and strode forward without another glance, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Every step away from Eliot felt like another chain breaking, another layer of her past crumbling into dust.

Miles was already waiting by the car, standing beside the open trunk. He didn’t speak as she approached, merely taking the suitcases from her hands and loading them inside.

Ephyra exhaled, rolling her shoulders back. When she turned, she saw Eliot standing in the doorway, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place—grief, regret, emptiness. Maybe all of them at once.

She met his gaze head-on, unflinching. And then, without a word, she slid into the car and shut the door.

Miles took his seat, started the engine, and pulled away from the mansion. Ephyra kept her eyes on the window, watching as the grand estate faded into the distance.

For years, this place had been Ephyra’s cage, her nightmare, the embodiment of every moment she had spent powerless. Now, it was nothing more than a hollow shell of the past.

She did not look back.

"Where to, Miss Ephyra?" Miles asked after a few minutes of silence.

Ephyra tilted her head back against the seat, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

"Take me home."

|A Week Later|

The Manhattan skyline was bathed in hues of amber and violet as the sun dipped beyond the towering skyscrapers. The business district, once alive with the steady hum of commerce, was now winding down. Office workers spilled onto the streets, some making their way to sleek black cars waiting at the curb, others weaving through the rush for a spot on the subway. The city, ever-moving, ever-changing, thrived in the transition between day and night.

Atop one of the tallest buildings in the district, Rylie Carver stood at the edge of the rooftop, where there was no railing—only open air and a sheer drop to the world below. He held an expensive cigarette between his fingers, its slow-burning embers casting a faint glow against the encroaching dusk. Bringing it to his lips, he took a long drag, exhaling a curl of smoke that was swiftly carried away by the wind.

The heavy rooftop door creaked open behind him. He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge the footsteps that approached.

His assistant stopped a few feet away, maintaining a respectful distance. "Sir Rylie," he began, voice even, but there was something beneath it—an edge of intrigue. "I’ve completed the investigations you requested. First, regarding Ephyra Allen’s background. And now, her connection to Aelion Laboratories." A pause. "Though what I found isn’t much, it will certainly surprise you, sir."

Rylie finally glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "Really?" His voice was lazy, almost indifferent, but the way his eyes darkened with interest betrayed him.

"Yes, sir." The assistant stepped forward, extending a sleek black tablet. "Here."

Rylie took the device, slipping the cigarette back between his lips as he tapped the screen. The soft glow illuminated his sharp features as his gaze flicked over the first line of text.

Then, he froze.

Ephyra Althea Aelion.

Rylie’s fingers stilled against the screen, his mind processing the name. He barely noticed the cigarette between his lips burning closer to the filter. The name wasn’t just a name—it was a statement, a revelation that shattered the puzzle he’d been carefully piecing together.

He swiped to the next document.

Ephyra Allen and Lyle Aelion—Marriage Certificate. Location: NYC Marriage Bureau.

A slow smirk stretched across his lips, his storm-gray eyes gleaming like steel catching the last rays of daylight. He let out a quiet chuckle, more amused than surprised.

"Ephyra Allen," he murmured, rolling the name on his tongue before repeating, "Ephyra Althea Aelion."

The assistant remained silent, watching as Rylie took one last pull from his cigarette before flicking it over the edge of the building. They both stood still for a moment, listening as the wind swallowed its descent.

Rylie exhaled, tilting his head as if reevaluating everything he knew. "Married," he mused. "To Lyle Aelion. And how the fuck did that happen?"

He turned fully now, locking eyes with his assistant. "I assume there’s more?" ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Yes, sir." The assistant adjusted his glasses, pulling up another set of documents. "The marriage was registered almost three weeks ago, but it was not publicized. No announcement, no ceremony, no media coverage. In fact, aside from the legal record, it’s almost as if it didn’t happen."

Rylie leaned back slightly, processing the information with a predatory sharpness. "So, she didn’t just expose Latham at the banquet. She solidified her connection to Aelion." He let out a low chuckle. "How convenient."

The assistant hesitated. "Sir, there’s something else."

Rylie lifted a brow, gesturing for him to continue.

"I combed through more of Aelion Laboratories’ internal dealings, specifically their financial movements around the time of the banquet," the assistant continued. "It appears that just days before Latham’s downfall, a significant shift in investments occurred within Aelion. Quiet, almost invisible, but precise. It was as if they were... preparing."

Rylie’s smirk deepened. "Preparing for Latham’s fall," he finished.

"Yes, sir."

A moment of silence stretched between them, the city below them moving on, oblivious to the storm brewing above.

Rylie turned back to the edge, staring down at the streets with an expression that was both thoughtful and entertained.

"She didn’t just expose them," he murmured. "She ensured their destruction in more ways than one."

His grip tightened around the tablet, but his voice remained smooth. "Tell me... is there any indication that this was a matter of love?"

The assistant shook his head. "There’s no evidence suggesting an actual romantic relationship between Ephyra and Lyle Aelion. No public appearances together, no prior engagements. It’s... but there was something about an agreement though I couldn’t find anything regardless of the multiple times I tried.."

Rylie let out another quiet chuckle, the sound carrying a dangerous edge. "Of course you wouldn’t. Continue."

"She seems to be living in one of Lyle Aelion’s secluded properties," the assistant noted, his voice steady but watchful.

Rylie tapped a finger against the side of the tablet, his gaze still fixed on the skyline. "Set up a meeting with her," he ordered, his tone smooth yet decisive. Then, after a pause, his voice dropped to something sharper. "And don’t let Lyle Aelion know about it."

The assistant hesitated for only a fraction of a second before inclining his head. "Understood, sir."

Rylie exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a smirk as he turned the tablet off. "I want to see for myself," he murmured, more to himself than to his assistant. "There’s something about her... and I intend to find out exactly what it is."

He handed the tablet back, then took one last look at the city stretching out beneath him. His expression was unreadable, but the glint in his storm-gray eyes spoke volumes.

This wasn’t just about curiosity anymore.

It was about the game.